Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
A blanket is tucked around my body that I don’t remember pulling over myself when I wake up to the feeling of warmth enveloping me.
Morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I turn, and my heart lurches. There, beside me, lays Saylor, a grin spreading over his face. “Are you a parking ticket? Because you have fine written all over you.”
“Saylor.” My voice is a whisper as I can’t quite talk around the lump in my throat.
His hand gently caresses my face, and the tingles that follow are familiar and heartbreakingly tender. “Hey, Boo,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a hush, filled with an emotion that mirrors my own.
The weight of everything we’re facing is pressing down on me, and I can’t help but blurt out what happened while he was gone, “I talked to Nan,” I begin, the words spilling out in a rush. “She came to me, Saylor. After all this time, she finally came.”
His expression shifts to one of curiosity mixed with a hint of concern. “What did she say?”
I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts.
“She said she’s been watching over us and knows about everything.
” Saylor’s hand stills on my cheek, his gaze locked with mine, encouraging me to continue.
“She talked about soul bonds, about how they don’t always have to be just between two people.
” My eyes search his for understanding. “She said that what we have… is fate. That the connection we have is because we belong together.”
His eyes soften. “Well, I didn’t need anyone to tell me you’re mine. I knew that from the second I saw you, but it’s good to have it confirmed.”
I bite my lip, the memory of Nan’s words both comforting and heartbreaking.
“I asked her what we could do about your… state. She said you’re caught between life and death, in limbo.
That you’re lingering because maybe you haven’t fulfilled your purpose yet.
” My voice wavers as I speak, the fear of losing him battling with the hope that he still has a chance.
Saylor’s expression turns thoughtful, his gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to me. “That’s a heavy thought. To be alive, yet not really living. Stuck because I couldn’t do what I was born to.”
“I know. And it’s killing me, Saylor. I don’t want to lose you, but I also don’t want you to suffer.”
He scoots closer, leaning in half on top of me. “Slo, you will never lose me, no matter what. And honestly, being with you is anything but suffering.”
His fingers gently stroke my hair, a soothing rhythm that anchors me in the moment.
“I’m scared,” I confess, my voice barely audible.
“I’m here,” he whispers, and I can almost feel his breath against my lips. “I’m here with you, Sloan. And I’m not going anywhere.” He leans in to kiss me just as there’s a knock, and the door is pushed open.
“Knock, knock,” Nash exclaims, a grin spreading across his face as he walks in with a tray in his hands, which he sets down on the desk.
His athletic frame is casually outlined by a fitted T-shirt that hints at the time he spends on the ocean, and his jeans hang just right as if they were made with him in mind.
He walks over to the bed and leans in to peck my lips. On my other side, Saylor rolls his eyes. “How do you want your eggs this morning, scrambled or fertilized?” Nash jokes, and I swat at him.
“Fuck, I like that one,” Saylor grumbles while Nash retrieves the tray and motions for me to sit up so he can place it in my lap.
“We’ll go with scrambled for now, but I’m sure fertilized can be arranged once you’ve eaten up.” Nash winks at me, handing me a fork. I can’t help smiling but hesitate when I look down at the eggs. “Hunter made them, not North, so no need to be scared of food poisoning.”
Starting to eat, I find they’re just as good as always, making me moan and close my eyes. When I open them again, two sets of ocean blues are fixed on me.
I savor the last bite of the eggs. “Hunter outdid himself with these,” I comment, setting the plate aside.
Nash takes it and brings it to the desk before returning with fire in his eyes, “So about that other part…” He leans in to kiss me, but I put a finger over his lips.
“Morning breath. Let me grab a quick shower and brush my teeth.”
“Fine,” he reluctantly agrees, laying down on the bed and swatting my ass when I stand. “Hurry, pretty girl, I have to get to work in a few.”
“Yes, hurry, don’t leave me here too long alone with dickhead,” Saylor chimes in, making me snicker.
I gather my toilet bag and hear Nash groan. “Why the fuck is that picture in your room?”
Chuckling, I head to the bathroom, grateful to finally have a place to keep my stuff. I brush my teeth before I step into the shower. The warm water is fucking heaven, and even though I would love to stay in here forever, I hurry.
Seems like I can take a shower whenever now, and I’m going to so enjoy the fuck out of it when two hot Jones boys aren’t waiting for me in my bed. But as I turn off the water, I realize I’ve forgotten a towel and some clothes.
Scanning the bathroom, I spot a drawer under the sink and pull it open, only to find a small Spider-Man towel that barely covers me. “Well, it’s better than nothing,” I mumble, wrapping it around myself, the fabric stretching just enough to cover my tits and barely anything else.
With my hair piled atop my head in a messy bun, I step back into the room to find Nash lounging on my bed, his attention on his phone, and Saylor peering over his shoulder. “That was fast,” Nash tells me, but his eyes are glued to the screen.
What is he…
“Gardening tips,” Saylor replies without looking up. “Super lame.”
I can’t help but laugh at the image of Nash, of all people, browsing through gardening tips.
Because of me?
As I lean down to rummage through my bag for clothes, Nash’s hands are suddenly on my hips, pulling me back onto his lap, where he’s now sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Fuck, you walking in here like that, and I didn’t even appreciate it.” He latches onto my neck, sucking lightly and nibbling, my head falling back on a soft moan, goose bumps spreading all over my body.
“Looks like Spider-Man is my new favorite superhero too,” Saylor jests from my other side, kissing my shoulder, and the tingles that spread mix with my pebbled skin, making me squirm between them.
Fuck, this is amazing.
Nash’s arms wrap around me, and he leans in for a passionate kiss while Saylor still kisses my shoulder up and down.
I press my thighs together to avoid dripping on Nash’s jeans.
I feel his fingers hook into the towel over my chest, tugging it down slowly.
But I stop him, whispering against his lips, “Saylor’s here. ”
I want this. Fuck, I want both of them so bad, but not if one of them doesn’t know that there are three people in this room right now.
Nash pauses, a flicker of understanding in his eyes.
He glances around the room to find Saylor, who’s trying to hide a smirk, then back at me.
Nash’s grip loosens slightly, but the warmth in his eyes doesn’t fade.
“Hunter said you’re with him too?” Nash asks, but there is only curiosity, no accusation, which calms my racing heart a little.
“I am.” I smile at Saylor, who gives me a small smile back, but there is something in his eyes I can’t quite place. Looking back at Nash, I say, “It’s all of you. Are you okay with that?”
“Is he?” Nash asks back, insecurity shining in his eyes, and his hand on my thigh trembles slightly.
“Why wouldn’t he be?” I ask. Of course, there are a lot of reasons why, but it sounds like Nash has something specific in mind.
“Maybe because he pretty much made me responsible for every little thing that went bad in his life for the past seven years and was very vocal about it when he still thought I couldn’t hear it,” Saylor shares in a neutral tone.
“What?” I ask, surprised.
“What did he say?” Nash asks, and when I turn to look at him, it seems like all his confidence left him on a breath.
I think about whether I should share what Saylor just said, but these two seem to need to resolve something standing between them.
And I promised Saylor to be his voice now.
Knowing now that there is some tension between the brothers, all of Saylor’s hurt and jealousy pointed at Nash but never at Hunter makes much more sense. “He said you made him responsible for everything that went bad the last few years,” I share, and Nash nods, looking at the floor.
“So he did hear me,” he murmurs.
“Oh, I so heard you, bro, and let me tell you, you’re a fucking dick too,” Saylor tells him, his hands formed into fists.
Do I relay this word for word?
Fuck it. They’re brothers. They talk like that, right?
“He said he heard you and that you’re a fucking dick too,” I relay, my voice soft, trying to at least change the tone a bit, but Nash laughs out loud.
“You’re the dick for leaving me alone in all that. What am I a dick for?” Nash asks, but there is a touch of lightness back into his posture.
“You’re a dick because you don’t fucking appreciate what you have. Being jealous of me? Really?” Saylor glares at him.
“For being jealous of him,” I tell Nash, and his smile slips off his face.
“I can’t change that I wish I’d been there that day too,” Nash confesses, almost to himself. His voice carries a mix of envy and regret.
Saylor bristles at Nash’s words. “You wish you were there?” he exclaims, his voice tinged with bitterness. “You’re the lucky one, Nash. You didn’t have to go through what we did. It was fucking horrific.”
I feel a lump in my throat. Saylor is right, of course, but Nash has a valid reason to feel left out.